Raising the Sword
by xX Painfully Dreaming
Summary: AU. Ulrich's father is the French Ambassador of Japan. However, an assassin is following his every move. He needs to learn how to protect himself. But, with the gorgeous Yumi as his teacher, he'll not only undergo physical pain but emotional as well...
1. Chapter 1

**Raising The Sword**

Chapter One  


By the two authoresses who are INCORPORATED:

aZn dReAmEr xD and xx Painful Bliss xx.

REMEMBER US!

_A/N: This is a mix of both of our styles, so it came out...interestingly. Read and review!_

A/N: Jenn's space.

So yeah, xx Painful Bliss xx will have italicized author's notes. aZn DrEaMeR xD will have underlined.

_The author's note method will be the same for my stories. At each place an author's note appears in the middle of the story, there will be a number (#). Match the number with the same number at the end of the story. For example, (1) will go with (1)._

Happy Reading!

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_Flashback_

"Father," I stared at the paper, "Who is this man? What does he want from me?"

I was seven. And I was afraid.

"It's nothing, son," he assured me. His dark brown hair was neatly combed and

smoothed down. His hair was very controlled and professional looking-- just like someone would expect the French Ambassador to look like. A few wrinkles appeared around his eyes from stress. But, most of his stress was from me and my situation--the danger of losing his only son. He was young, but not young enough to escape the growing signs of aging. Father was old as well, but he wasn't old enough to have gained the wisdom needed for this.

Father was suffering from the large amount stress placed on him. At only 28 years old, he was the first ambassador to ever come to Japan, this strange country I lived in now, from France. As if that wasn't enough, he had to worry about me now. I, his son, the only child he had, was in a a great deal of danger.

Back then, father was loving and caring just as he is now. But after losing his wife, my mother, he'd been awake suffered restlessness and insomnia for days, and at some days, he got less then 20 hours of sleep a week. The pain of my mother dying of a disease people would later discover to be cancer was just too much for him to bear already--but if his son was to disappear off the earth too, he would surely break. I was the only thing left for him--his only family, and the last remembrance of his beloved wife aside from a few grainy pictures that were torn and burned at her funeral.

"But, father! I wanna knoww..." I protested and whined childishly while tugging the long baggy sleeve of his kimono.

I still remember that day as if it were only yesterday. A note had been sent to my father, and a picture accompanied it. That man in that picture--he wore a long black coat that almost touched the ground, and a black hat cast a shadow over his face, making it invisible. Black pants that were long and baggy, black boots that looked thick and powerful. His face was ducked beneath his hat, hiding him, and his hands were covered with criminal looking gloves.

Just the sight of him had made me shiver.

It looked like he was a monster who could just melt into the ground and rise back up...someone indestructible.

This photograph was sort of blurry, as if he was running away while it was being taken. The mist and rain only added to it. The single lamppost in the picture illuminated one of his black gloved hands--although I was kind of glad it wasn't his face--in which he was holding a pipe that was still smoking from a recent use. The wispy bits of gray caught in the picture rising up, as if they didn't even want to be near him.

This man...he was a true object of terror to me.

He looked like some evil criminal in a book, but surely he wasn't. By the look on Father's face I could tell that the man was real and alive. The scared look that played with my father's features were not one that could be drawn out by a mere book. No, he was real.

An artist probably wouldn't be able to paint someone looking so real and petrifying, no one could capture the sinister aura just around the simple photograph. Probably someone who was stealing some of Japan's beautiful jewelry, I had thought. Jewels were expensive and valuable, but what he had been taking was much more precious.

Lives.

Life was priceless, whether it was taken from criminals or the innocent. But I hadn't known this when I was young--he wasn't after pretty little gems.

He was after me.

While I continued to stare at this picture, entranced by the evillness, Father was still staring at the slightly crumpled, yellowing paper in his hand. I realized that it had probably accompanied the photograph.

"What's that?" I pointed at the paper. Father looked at me in a sad way, and clenched the paper a bit harder, putting it in his sleeve pocket, trying to hide it.

"It's nothing important," he lied, "Don't worry about it Ulrich."

I glared at him, giving him the most fierce face a little seven year old like me could manage. "Let me see!" I demanded.

My quest to uncover the paper was interrupted by the young maid who appeared at the doorway.

"Stern-sama?" her gentle voice broke through the tension still in the air from before, and Japanese accent made both of us instantly look in her direction.

She was still very young, only about 15 years old, and using a formal title for my father. Nervously, she fiddled with the hem of her traditional working clothes, hoping that she hadn't been interrupting anything important. She feared for her job. Work was scarce, and anyone with an occupation was very lucky.

"Yes?" my father answered wearily.

"Ulrich-san's bath is ready," she answered timidly.

Father gave me a look of fear. It gave me a cold-warm feeling then. I was happy that he was worried about me and cared so much, but I was also upset about the circumstances why.

"Go on Ulrich," he finally said in a voice barely above a strained whisper. "It's late, but come back down when you're ready to go to bed, please."

I nodded, biting my lower lip as I followed her out. This was father's personal maid, not mine. Why wasn't Nami here for me instead? I pondered about this but thought no other about this. Maybe Nami-san was sick. Midori was here instead.

She guided me to my bathroom, it was clean and made with polished stone. The wooden tub was was filled with a fair amount of steaming water. Next to it was a towel, my pajamas, and soap. I nodded and thanked her before she left.

Quietly, I bounded back to Father's office. My curiosity had gotten the best of me. Sure, the water would be cold, but I wanted to know what this was about. As I pressed my ear up to the closed wooden door to my father's office, I heard him talking to Midori-san.

"M-Midori," his strong, unsteady voice was breaking off into small pieces, "Promise me you will tell no one of this situation."

"Yes, sir," her voice was quiet and breathy. "I will tell no one."

"I trust you...earlier today, I recieved a letter. Inside the envelope, I expected a complaint of some sort, but I found a photograph instead. This note accompanied it..."

Father took a deep breath and started reciting what the mystery paper had said. It was tempting to just run in there and grab the note from him. But I stood with my feet firmly planted to the cold tile beneath my bare feet. Pushing all the temptation away, I listened carefully, straining my ears to catch any words at all.

"Stern:

Leave this country at once, or else you'll say goodbye to your son.

Forever."

I heard Midori gasp before asking the question I longed to know the answer to. "Stern-sama, who wrote it?" she asked.

I darted back to the bath. I didn't want to think about this. I was seven. This couldn't be happening to me. Pulling off dirty clothes, I sank into the tub and dunked my head under water. At least there no one could tell the tears from water.

**Present Day**

Now, I am no longer an itty-bitty little seven year old. That man in the picture-- I later found out by more eavesdropping--is known by X.A.N.A.

It probably stands for a group he's in, or his initials, but I may never know. I'm fourteen years old, twice as old as when the cursed anonymous letter was placed in my father's mailbox.

Yes, I'm a teenager now, not some scared little. Nothing much has changed. Father is the same headstrong, paranoid French Ambassador in Japan. This X.A.N.A. had been gone from Japan when I was eight. We didn't know where he was--he was sneaky as a fox, running and hiding everywhere. No attacks were made, but paranoid ol' dad thought I should prepare anyway. At anytime, anywhere, he could attack. Well, that's what he told me when I turned eight anyway.

So finally, when I turned fourteen years old, Father had finally decided that I was ready. Almost immediately after the threat came, he had enrolled me to learn how to protect myself. He had let me learn martial arts, but nothing else. He thought the Japanese way was dangerous, and eventually pulled me out of the class. I only had a few years of experience under my belt.

I had waited forever for this day to come. Waiting for six, what seemed like endless years, I finally was presented with my own set of weapons. There was a black unifrom fitted for me, but I liked the weapons the best. Knives, swords...many things were given to me. However, among them was a katana. My time had come. Finally, I was allowed to learn how to fight. **(1)**

I was a strong, tall stubborn boy now. I didn't let anything or anyone pass through me, and nothing could bring me down, or make me feel butterflies in my stomach. I was invincible.

That was the truth back then. I thought no one could make me feel pain, whether physically or emotionally.

But now, it's a lie.

Because on my sixteenth birthday, I met Yumi.

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_A/N: Well, I hoped you enjoyed this! We're going to have lots of fun writing this, I can tell._

A/N: Space for Jenn.

**Author's Notes:**

**(1)--**A katana is a Japanese sword.

Review please!

--xx Painful Bliss xx, aZn DrEaMeR xD


	2. Chapter 2

**Raising The Sword**

Chapter Two 

** By the two authoresses who are INCORPORATED: aZn dReAmEr xD and xx Painful Bliss xx**

** Jenn (aZn dReAmEr xD): Aiight, this chapter was written by me, without any "Isabel-ifying". Next chapter, it'll be all Isabel. I hope you enjoy it! It was quite fun writing it. :)**

_Isabel (xx Painful Bliss xx): Nothing wrong with Isabelification, lol. Ok, well, yeah. I edited this a little, but it's pure Jenn. For those of you who read "Friends and Fame Don't Mix" (pretty much all of you...), you'll probably like it. So...yeah.  
_

**

* * *

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**Ulrich's POV**

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"Ulrich, remember I was telling you about Wakamuji-sensei? That he would be your private instructor for martial arts?" Father questioned me; his hands held firmly together, as I noticed wisps of gray hair were dabbed here and there. He was aging quickly because of his never-ending stress. At least he sleeps at least 30 hours a week now. That's an improvement. 

I was already clad in my black uniform, and my katana was set for me to grab. I ran my hand through my thick brown hair, exasperated.

"Yes, Father," I droned. Why did he need to know? I've seen Wakamuji-sensei. He's very healthy, and I can't imagine him getting the slightest sickness. He's only about 28.

"He will no longer be your instructor,"

"Why not?" I demanded. Wakamuji and I had gotten along great- I didn't want to transfer to an old, cranky man who would do absolutely nothing but complain all day about his back!

"He received a better job--as a doctor. Feel good for him, Ulrich. He needs a better job, he has a wife and kids." Father placed a large, sturdy hand upon my shoulder. "Do not worry, son. He recommended a former student of his. He said that his student is to be very good."

"I sure hope so." I sighed. I had been looking forward to it. Great, now I had a cranky old man with a cane as my teacher. Absolutely glorious.

"He will be here soon, I believe." Father said, furrowing his brow. "Perhaps in about… ten minutes?"

"Already? Perhaps I need more time to… impress him." I replied quickly, trying to get out of the situation. I really did not want to be taught by someone who could barely fight himself. Yes, I do know that I'm jumping to conclusions. However, I've been looking so forward to it… it was pretty hard to explain.

"No, you're fine." He assured me, knowing what I was getting it. After spending sixteen years with me, he didn't fall for these little tricks…

"What does he look like? How old is he?" I questioned.

"I don't know," he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

A knock sounded across the vast, empty room.

"Oh my, that must be Midori-san. I'm assuming the instructor has arrived." My old man commented. He paced to the door, loud footsteps echoing across the room.

"The instructor has arrived, sir." Midori-san bowed slightly before my father. He smiled, and gestured for me. I jogged briskly to her, and waved a little to Father. He shooed me off. You see, at least he trusted me to be safe now.

I grabbed my katana and followed the small maid.

"Your instructor is waiting outside," she said, as we walked out of the Japanese-style house. "The training area is far down. They will guide you there." Cherry blossoms were blooming across the few trees in the background. Beautiful Japanese flowers were blossoming beautifully already. They were exotic; never before seen by French eyes- except for Father and I- we were the first French, or so it is believed, to have ever seen such radiant, peaceful flowers. They sent a wave of calmness over my body, overflowing through me from head to toe.

She nodded at me and stepped back into the house, sliding the door closed.

I walked barefoot across the soft, vibrant green grass. I stared at the shiny metal of my sword, and almost slammed into a tree.

I turned quickly and resumed walking straight, still lost in the shininess of my new possession.

"Ahem?"

My eyes instantly snapped up, as I almost slammed into another tree. My grip on the katana tightened.

As my eyes processed what I saw before me, my grip loosened. I remembered what Father taught me. "Bow to people, it is courteous, and earns their respect."

I bowed slightly before her, as she did with me.

"Sir?" she asked sweetly. She had the most beautiful accent I've ever heard- prettier than Midori-san's. It was the voice of an angel. Her voice was more enjoying hearing than seeing the twinkling night stars in the sky. I wished to hear her sing…

"Uh- yes?" my gaze followed her body, and snapped back up to her face. She was like a perfect china doll- excluding the fact that she wore no kimono. Her hair was, as I am assuming, a little bit past her shoulder. Her sleek, shiny black hair was tied up in a neat bun; a black ribbon wrapped around tightly to insure it wouldn't fall. She wore no sandals, as it was thrown to the side. She was holding a kunai by her pointer finger. **(1) **Her little sack seemed hollow and empty. The girl wore boy clothing, and absolutely no make-up. Without it, she was still the prettiest girl I've ever seen.

I wasn't in love. I was just astounded by her beauty, yes? Right. I was only attracted to her sweet scent of flowers and her extraordinary loveliness.

"I am Yumi Ishiyama." She took a few steps closer to me, as I realized she was pretty tall--only an inch or two shorter.

"I am Ulrich Stern, the ambassador's son." I held out my hand, and she hesitantly took it. The feeling was warm, and spread across my body. I doubt she felt anything, or noticed that my face was slowly turning a red hue.

I reluctantly let go, as I questioned her, "What are you doing out here? I'm waiting for my instructor to come."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm waiting for my student who is right in front of me to realize his instructor is right in front of his face."

My mouth opened wide. "You're--my instructor?" I stammered. "I…I thought my father--he said it was a 'he'. And I just assumed because usually women weren't… martial arts instructors…" I fought to regain my composure, and lessen the shock, but I was still… really surprised.

Yumi-sensei just smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. "I guess I'll be the first then. Come on, you have a lot to learn if you want to defend yourself."

As we walked, she explained some other vital things. "I don't exactly know everything there is to know about martial arts. However, I do know enough to help you. You'll need all the help you can get against this X.A.N.A. He seems like a very hard opponent from what I heard. Wakamuji-sensei once taught him. He used his extraordinary skills for evil instead of self-defense."

"Wakamuji-sensei must have been good, huh?" I commented. I didn't really mind having Yumi-sensei as my teacher though.

"Oh yes, he is an expert. For some time now, he'd wanted to be a doctor. Now he is. You should feel good for him. He worked hard to earn a living for his four children and wife."

That's precisely what Father had told me! However, now that Yumi-sensei said it… it made all the difference. I instantly felt proud that I could have had a smart, wise instructor. It doesn't make sense, does it? Nothing does anymore… especially the way I feel now as I walk closely alongside her.

"Oh… that's wonderful! His family must be most pleased." I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to act natural. I've had to strike conversation up with people many times before. It should be a lot harder, since they're much more higher up in the social pyramid. However, I felt much more nervous than I've ever felt. Yet at the same time, I felt some mystical aura around her…

"Oh, yes!" she nodded happily. "Her children were dancing around his small house yesterday. I baby-sit for his children everyday instead of paying him his wage of teaching me to defend myself. My family is very poor, and I needed to learn how to defend them. And Wakamuji-sensei knew how much I needed this money. I am most honored to be able to teach the ambassador's son. I've learned he is very important." She grinned slightly in my direction.

"Heh…" I muttered nervously, red rising to my cheeks.

"How old are you?" I curiously questioned. As I realized my rudeness, I tried to take the question back, saying, "I'm so sorry! Please excuse my-"

"Oh, it's okay." She shrugged. "I'm fifteen. You?"

"Sixteen." I replied. "I have a younger instructor--are you sure you're up to the challenge of teaching me?"

"I'm sure I can handle it." She responded.

"How will I address you?"

"Oh, does it matter?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "You can just call me Yumi-sensei, for all I care."

"Okay."

"Oh! We are here!" Yumi-sensei exclaimed. "How would you know?" I questioned quizzically. It was the same green grass. Nothing indicated it was different.

"Do you not see that big tree?" she pointed to a large, tall tree with many branches drooping, which was in front of us. Leaves hung as if it would fall at anytime.

I nodded.

"That's an indication that we have walked a mile. This is a private place surrounded by trees in which no one really knows of. Your father had discovered this spot, and told me to bring you here where it is safe."

"He knew all along that you were a girl?" I asked incredulously. My own father...I should of known he was a liar. A pretty good one too…

"Yes, of course. He was reluctant at first, but since Wakamuji-sensei is such a well-known, good instructor and he recommended me, he decided to give it a go." She explained, whilst jumping up, and grabbing a sturdy tree branch. She did a few chin-ups.

"Well? Are you ready?" she jumped down flexibly. Her smile seemed even brighter than the Sun right then.

"Oh, sure! Of course!" I snapped out of my little daze. Her beauty was just too radiant. I had to focus, or else I would accidentally cut a tree in half.

"Well, do you know anything at all? You seem pretty athletic." Her eyes trailed down, and snapped back up. She was probably just examining to see if I got what it takes to defend myself. (Or is she…?)

"Sure, I've… learned a few tricks here and there," I replied, shrugging my shoulders as casual as possible. I didn't want to mention that I've been spying on other people's lessons. It seemed rude.

"Show me what you got." She prodded, nodding towards me. She crossed her arms, which were protected and covered by baggy sleeves.

I fumbled with my feet, and did a feeble jump kick. I don't know what happened… whenever I practiced by myself, I did it perfect. Felt the wind beneath my feet, the breeze caressing my cheek-- this time I felt nothing but a whoosh of air--and a big thud as I landed.

Yumi-sensei raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing not much practicing?"

"Uh-yeah." I lied. I had practiced practically every day since I was ten, and began spying on other people's lessons.

"Okay, we will start with something simple." Yumi-sensei stated, twirling her kunai around with her finger professionally. She instantly made it stop.

"Watch and observe." She took the kunai expertly, and seemingly spun her wrist around and around. Then, she did some kind of "X" shape with it. She kept repeating this, doing it faster and faster until it was blurred, and I could barely see her face and her intimating eyes that stared at me.

Then her wrist stopped. Her kunai was held directly in front of her.

My heart seemed to stop beating at that instant.

I remained silent, and then managed to utter praise. "Wow. That was… extraordinary."

"It's the basics," she shrugged. "For defense. One of the first things Wakamuji-sensei taught me."

She raised her eyes to meet mine. Her beady black eyes had seemed to stare within, not at me. Her gaze seemed to pierce right through my very skin. Now, she stopped her faraway gaze and focused directly at me. "Now you try." Her soft, yet firm voice instructed.

I held my katana in front of me, and stared at it for a few seconds. I had no idea what as to do. I really was not that flexible with my wrist- or any part of me for that matter. I began to try it- but only almost twisted my wrist. Not to mention I almost cut into my skin. One little sharp slash, and there'd be a whole lot of blood.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Yumi-sensei exclaimed. Her black hair swished back and forth as she jogged to a tree, and bent down. I couldn't see what she was looking for, as the tall grass blocked the ground from viewing point.

She rose with a thin branch, with a few leaves attached on the end. She plucked them out, and handed it to me. "It'll be safer," she assured me. "The first time I did it with my kunai, I cut myself pretty bad in the wrist. It was fairly close to a vein. Wakamuji-sensei came up with the branch idea, and I only got a few scratches afterwards. We'll see how well you understand the concept first, and if you don't, we'll backtrack a few steps."

I nodded. Staring at the rough texture of the branch, I moved my wrist to the right. Confused by this motion, and not knowing what to do, I moved my wrist back to the left. I didn't want to admit to Yumi-sensei that I didn't understand. I was stubborn, and that was exactly how I am.

After a few more moments of examining me, Yumi-sensei walked over, and took the branch. She threw it gently to the side. Then she took a breath, and walked behind me. She held her arm in front of her, and motioned for me to follow.

"You are moving your wrist in a circular motion." She explained. "Not from right to left."

She demonstrated, her wrist moving smoothly in a clock-wise direction. "You can't let your wrist move. It must stay firm, and in that place."

I concentrated in making my wrist stay where it was. It was pretty hard, since I was used to quick movement. I moved it in a slow circle.

"Good." She smiled at me.

After I did it a few more times, we went on to the sword. Not to get into much detail of it, but it was an okay first lesson. I'm still practicing with my wrist. Yumi-sensei says to not try it with my katana yet, she fears I will get injured. With it moving in such fast motion, it is very easy to hurt one's self.

As we walked back, I realized how I felt like I knew her for eternity. She listened very well, and was easy to talk to.

"I have a younger brother named Hiroki." Her eyes showed serenity and calmness. "He's four now, and still has much to learn. My parents wish for me to teach him martial arts so he can defend himself. He's sweet, but can get very annoying."

"I have no sibling. Sometimes I wish I did," I confided. "It isn't fun being locked up in my house all day with only the maids as my company…"

"You're lucky," she replied. "It's not that I dislike Hiroki, but I just wished that he left me alone… he teases me all the time about this boy, William. We're best friends, but nothing more."

"Do you… feel love towards him?" I questioned, red rising to my cheeks. I hated myself for asking, but I was curious. I deeply wished that she didn't- but why should I care? I don't like her or anything.

Yumi-sensei shrugged. "Perhaps a little, almost as if he were my older brother. Though I do believe he has feelings for me. My parents like William, and are telling me to give him a chance. They tell me to go somewhere nice with him. Get to know him better and perhaps get married and have children."

My stomach tightened into a big knot. I stuffed my left hand into my pocket, as they clenched with envy. Wait...envy? No, definitely not the right word… My other hand was also clenched, but on my katana.

"And what do you think of this?"

"I definitely disapprove… I love William as a brother. I can't imagine him as anything more."

My grip loosened with relief. "I see. We're here!"

We halted in front of my rather large house. I didn't want her to leave- we only met twice a week. I wouldn't see her for two more days.

"Do you… wish to stay for dinner?" I questioned her, blushing. I clasped my hands behind my back, as I looked down.

She smiled and shook her head. "I'd love to, but I have to baby sit Hiroki tonight. If by any chance, you would like to come and stay, we certainly won't mind. We have an extra bedroom."

I brightened. Perhaps Father would let me! Though knowing Father, he would probably question me why. "Wait here, I'll go ask Father."

I quickly slid the back door open and rushed in, looking for Father. I found Midori-san sweeping the floor, while humming a Japanese tune. "Do you know where Father is?" I questioned.

"Oh, I do believe he is taking a bath… I'm not certain though. I think Nami-san would know, she prepared his bath."

"Thank you," I called, as I ran up the hollow steps. Each step creaked with all the pressure I put on it as I ran up.

"Father!" I knocked rapidly on the bathroom door.

I could hear his carefree voice as he sang loudly. It was the only place where he wasn't paranoid--in the shower.

" Ulrich, is that you?"

"Yes."

"How was your lesson?"

"Marvelous. May I go to my instructor's house? We're… uh, going to practice a bit more."

I could almost feel the slight frown in his face as he answered, "Sure, but be careful. At dark, there are many things lurking about."

"Thank you, Father!" I smiled to myself, and rushed out the door before Father grew paranoid again and forbid me to go.

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**Yumi's POV  
**

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I waited patiently, my eyes viewing the lovely place. I hadn't expected someone like Ulrich, to say the least… I was thinking of someone who was ugly, selfish, and snotty. Well, I really couldn't blame myself. His father was rich, and very important. 

But Ulrich… he was anything but that.

He was handsome, and kind. He was eager to learn, that's for sure. His eyes were like swirling amber whirlpools that had an amazing depth. When I placed my hands upon his, I received a strange, tingling sensation that made me feel warm and cold--like I was coming down with something.

Please, I really didn't want to get sick. Not now, please, this was the worst of times. I just started teaching him, if I got sick, then I wouldn't be able to help support my family. Inviting Ulrich to dinner is only courteous, right? There's absolutely no other reason.

I didn't know what my sickness was, but I know almost all the sicknesses around this place. All of them didn't lead up to my symptoms--achy head, pounding heart, warm and cold feeling--I didn't remember any of this. I was sure that Mother would find out though. She was an expert--Hiroki was sickness-prone.

Just then, I saw my panting, well toned, handsome, athletic… oh my god. His muscles are to die for in a guy… I have to tell Aelita.

Wait. I'm getting out of topic. I've never acted like this before. Another symptom--constant ramble.

Well, anyway, my student jogged out, and excitedly told me he could go.

"Great!" I forced a smile. Our house was tidy, yes. However, with my parents and Hiroki there- who knew what could happen.

Let's just say, Parents plus Hiroki equals major emotional destruction.

"All right, my house is only about a mile away." I informed.

"A mile? Father never let me run a mile. He said it was too far. I had to run in circles across the lawn several times to get exercise--not to mention running around the house all day. That's certainly exercise."

"Then I must get a lot of exercise." I began jogging at a brisk pace, with Ulrich right alongside me.

"You don't want to run?" he asked, a bit surprised.

"Sure." I grinned wholeheartedly at him. "I'll race. Whoever loses has to set the table."

Ulrich made a face at me. "But I'm the Ambassador's son!" he joked.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Are you on or not?"

"Fine, fine."

"… Go!" I took off. I didn't run that fast yet, I would need my energy when I beat him.

I'll admit I had a small head start. But Ulrich was fast. In less than five seconds, he had raced past me, and was already a few yards ahead.

"I've had to set the table too many times already!" I hollered after him teasingly.

"I'm going to wiiinnnn!" he yelled back in a singsong voice, making him sound five.

All right. This is the time where I beat him. My house was only a small figure in the distance. I smiled warmly at the thought of the fresh, boiled green tea waiting for me at home. The moment immediately diminished as I thought of Hiroki making fun of having my student over for dinner. Wonderful, huh?

Ulrich turned his head to glance at me, his devilish smirk only encouraged me to run at a fastened pace. He mouthed something incoherently to me, as I stared at him in complete confusion. He just shook his head at me, and turned his head, his ruffled brown hair blowing slightly in the wind. His well-toned arms continued to move back and forth as we neared my small house.

The boy didn't know what had hit him. In only a matter of seconds, I had zoomed into the house, with only a small ounce of energy. As he slowly entered my house, he nearly dropped onto the ground, his jaw opening with every millisecond.

* * *

**Ulrich P.O.V.**

Her smile almost glowed- even if it was in a slightly taunting way. "Ready to set the table?" she teased, placing a slender hand on my shoulder.

I grunted, knowing my face had "DEFEATED" written all over it. I reluctantly took the chopsticks and placed them neatly on the small and simple wooden table. It was a big contrast to my usual 5-yard long table back at home. Being the ambassador's son almost meant being hopelessly spoiled, as much as I hated to admit it.

Sighing, I wiped my sweaty, perspiring face on my black uniform, and took off the shirt. I used the shirt to wipe away all the sweat, and my hair, which was practically soaked.

Yumi-sensei stared at me with an eyebrow raised.

"Uh-" I stammered, quickly shoving my shirt back on. "Heh, sorry."

"Oh, you don't have to," Yumi-sensei shook her head. "All the boys around this area always does it. Only when they see me though, apparently. With any other girl, they don't do it. I have no idea what's wrong with them…"

"Oh… I see…" Was she really this oblivious? I wasn't doing it for the same reason, but for the reason I was sweaty.

"So you can take it off, I'm accustomed to it." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Nah, I'm fine now." I replied, tugging the shirt down to prove it.

As I watched Yumi-sensei move about, she had a strange look on her face.

She was thinking about something, but I didn't know what. Since she told me it was okay, then, I shouldn't be worrying, right? But that look on her face indicated to me something was going on. I shooed the thought away, and told myself nothing was wrong. I focused my eyes on something different.

Her pearl-white teeth amazed me, as her smile seemed to shine right through me. The Tooth Fairy must adore her… her prettiness plus white teeth? This girl would most definitely be implored to have as a wife of someone's son.

She tugged at my arm, sighing. The girl looked up at me and taunted, "You're such a sore loser…"

"I am not!" I moved my arm, and got away from her light grasp, trying to defend my pity self. "I am not a sore loser, if you ask me, I'm a VERY gracious loser!" I huffed, and grabbed the chopsticks from her, and daintily placed them on the table, as to prove my point.

She sighed, and shoved all five pairs of chopsticks to the side of the small table, put five small, lightly decorated bowls on different parts of the table, and set the chopsticks on top of the bowls. She gestured towards the bowls, and shook her head.

"You're such a pampered little brat." She waved her hand at me.

"Nuh-uh!" I growled, glaring.

"Well then you're spoiled with your little maids," she replied haughtily. "I'm going to get my mother and Hiroki. Set the table while I'm gone."

"Yes, your Royal Highness," I muttered, defeated.

She muttered something incoherently, as she bounded down the hallway, and made a right. I stared at her retreating form, and grumbled.

"This will be a wonderful dinner, I'm sure…"

* * *

**A/N:**

**(1) Kunai--A sort of knife. Made of iron. At the end of the kunai knife there's a small loop so the person using it can throw it with one finger. The handle is usually wrapped in cloth for a grip. The blade is 3 dimensional (a.k.a. not flat like a sword) and sort of diamond-shaped, ending in a relatively sharp point. In ancient times, it was a gardening/farming tool, so everyone (even poor people) had one. However, it was commonly believed to be used as a weapon. We'll go with the weapon part for this story.  
**  
**JENN: Review please! It took a while to write 8 pages! Heh. Next chapter will be the dinner, more weapon-training, and blah. All of Isabel's work, so enjoy it! **

_Isabel: Ja, I think you'll enjoy this. This is all Jenn, next will be me, then Jenn, and so on. Read and review please, it'll make us both happy. Oh, and holy crap, this is 12 pages after the author's notes and editing. _xD_  
_

_**REVIEW! (Yes, this is from the both of us!)**_

**--aZn DrEaMeR xD**

_--xx Painful Bliss xx**  
**_


	3. Chapter 3

-

**Raising the Sword**

Chapter Three  


-

* * *

And thus, chapter three commences! Kind of really late though... 

**Jenn (aZn DrEaMeR xD): Mwee, give all credit to Isabellerrr. She's the awesomeful weirdo who wrote everything. :D  
**

_Isabel (ANGELforSHOW, formally xx Painful Bliss xx): Ah, ah, ah! I'm sooooo sorry! Gomen ne, reviewer-san! It's so, so late, but at least it's up! So, how much time has passed so far? …Since 2/13/06. Crapp. Sorry!_

_Anyway, after my apology letter up there, this chapter was written by me, ANGELforSHOW! Speaking of which I need to update the account information about me then…what was the password again? Ah, I'm horrible… Well, enjoy!_

_ And don't listen to Jenn-chan. I'm not THAT weird...just weird in a GOOD way!  
_

"Normal." – Spoken Dialogue in English/French

Normal – Narration

_Italics_ – Thoughts

"_Italics"_ – Japanese Dialogue

**(number)** – Author's note.

_Author's notes at the end of the sentence will explain what the Japanese text means. Yeah, it's annoying as hll to scroll up and down, up and down, up and down…so this is a favor for you all!_

* * *

_Ulrich's POV_

"Mother! Where is Father?" I heard her distant voice sighing. Whining was accompanied by her sleek voice. "PAPA! PAPA!" It was most definitely the voice of young Hiroki.

"He is still in the fields, Yumi-chan," Mrs. Ishiyama replied with the same calm, serene voice as her daughter's – when she wasn't fighting that is. "He should be back in a few minutes, I'm sure."

Just then, a small young Japanese boy toddled in, a small black-clothed bundle of curiosity and energy.

"YUMI–!" he began screaming when he saw me, and his eyes grew as wide as the fancy china plates back at home. I quickly clamped my hand over his mouth.

"Now, now," I hissed, panic rising from my chest up to my strangled voice, "I'm not a bad person. Please, stop screaming."

He disobeyed, and kept on yelling through my hand, although it was muffled a big deal. The two women weren't able to hear him, but he still thrashed about.

"Please!" I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, then reopening them. "A-ha! Are you hungry?"

He stopped hollering as he looked up at me with glazed eyes. "Yes."

"Good." I dug deep down into my pocket, and retrieved an apple. I had saved it as a snack, but had forgotten about it. At least it was put to good use now.

"Mmm!" his mouth watered, as he reached for the apple. I happily gave it to him, relieved to the point where I almost collapsed on the floor.

He bit deep into the apple, and began eating big chunks. I was astonished as I watched the little guy eat his way through the apple until only the core was left.

"You… must have been… hungry?" My eyes were bugging out, I knew. _"Hai," (Yes.)_ he replied, in a matter-of-fact voice.

He threw the apple into the trash, and ran off – probably to his female family members.

Apparently he did, because they quickly came with Hiroki dragging both by their hands. He pointed at me enthusiastically, a smile blossoming on his face.

"It's not nice to point." I mumbled under my breath so no one would hear.

"HE NICE!" Hiroki nodded his head toward me.

I looked up to meet the eyes of a young, stressed-looking woman whose hair was in a sloppy bun, falling out from working all day.

"Who are you?" she questioned me, her voice as factual as her children's. "I demand an explanation this instant!" her eyes were filled with fury, as well as curiosity. She was obviously not used to other people being invited inside her home without her consent.

"Mother!" Yumi-sensei quickly defended me, standing right in front. I stared at her, puzzled at this sudden movement. "You have the wrong idea. He is my student, the son of the ambassador."

"You are the son of the ambassador?" the woman's eyes softened a little, anger no longer present.

"Yes…?" I cowered under her.

She was speechless. She began speaking in such rapid Japanese I could not understand her. Yumi's cheeks blushed prettily, as she began speaking in fluent, quick Japanese as well. Yumi kept shaking her head at her mother, as I wondered what was going on. Hiroki just stood there, gasping in amazement, his mouth agape.

"You understand what they're saying?" I asked him. It made me feel stupid that I didn't understand the native language, but a young child did.

"Yes," he nodded cutely and gave me a pleasant smile.

"What're they saying?"

"They're talking about how Mama wants Yumi to ma–!"

"Hiroki-chan!" his mother slapped him lightly, but playfully. She turned to me and smiled sweetly. "Absolutely nothing of the sort is being said. Nothing of what we are speaking of should concern you and your pretty head."

"Wha…?" I was dazed. Huh?

"There's nothing to worry about." Yumi answered quickly, her head bowing down, as if in shame. "Absolutely nothing."

Her mother smiled at her and turned back to me. "Oh yes."

We heard the sliding door open, and instinctively we all turned our heads to look.

"Hello!" A wrinkled, but well-built man came into the small room and greeted everyone. He kissed his wife, hugged his offspring, and… stared at me.

"He is the Ambassador's son, Papa. My student," Yumi replied to his unspoken question.

"Oh! Yes!" he began shaking my hand so hard; my entire body began to vibrate.

"Ah! I'm sorry!" he began smoothing out the invisible wrinkles of my uniform. "Oh so sorry!"

"For what?" I looked at him, my eyebrows furrowing. This family was definitely none I have met before. They were up to something. But like Yumi, I had no idea what. Next time I saw Hiroki alone, I would make him spill everything with another apple. Perhaps I would throw in some more food as well?

"For wrinkling your uniform!" he exclaimed, as if it were obvious.

I glanced at Yumi, but the instance she saw me, her head was bowed down.

We went through dinner with Yumi avoiding my gaze, Hiroki chattering happily, and the parents fawning over me with adoration, in which I completely did not need.

As I left, my head was spinning with reasons why the family was acting so strangely. The REAL reason was the one I've never even thought twice about.

* * *

_Normal POV_

* * *

"Ahhh!" Yumi stretched in the dim sunshine as she waited for her student to arrive. It was 6 A.M. – perfect training time! Sitting back down onto a stone bench she had requested from the ambassador (he had agreed to move one there happily), Yumi patted the black bag full of supplies she had brought with her. 

Today's lesson should be fun.

-

_6:15 A.M._

Ulrich should be there. Maybe he overslept a tad?

-

_6:30 A.M._

Perhaps for the guy's next birthday, she would buy him a big, loudly ticking, pocket watch. Come to think of it, an attached buzzard would do nicely too. Silver would fit him.

-

_6:45 A.M._

A bird flew across the sky. Nothing else.

-

_7:00 A.M. _

Yumi rearranged her pack. Everything was in perfect order…

-

_7:15 A.M._

What do you think?

-

Finally, at 7:30, a certain well-nourished son of an ambassador walked serenely through the tree grove, carrying as usual, his katana.

"You're late," Yumi said bluntly before getting up off the bench.

"You told me to meet you here at seven. It's only half an hour. Sorry," Ulrich said apologetically, setting down his sword on the bench.

"I said six."

"…Oh."

Yumi slapped a hand to her forehead. Why did she agree to taking Ulrich on as her student again? Oh right, she needed the money – her family needed the money. "It's…okay. Just try to remember that six is when training starts. It's the best time to get up and out of bed."

He nodded.

"Alright, let's warm up," Yumi said, starting to stretch out her legs and arms. Running a few steps, she leapt off the ground and hung onto a tree branch about ten feet up off the ground. Gripping the smooth branch tightly, she swung herself up and onto the branch. Standing up, she walked on the branch over to the tree trunk and leaned against it. "You try," she called down to Ulrich. He seemed hesitant.

Trying to imitate his sensei, he stretched and then ran up off the ground and jumped. Catching the branch, he tried to swing himself up, but failed. Letting go, he landed on the ground on his knees and shook off his hands. They were turning red from the hanging.

Yumi sighed and jumped, landing on her feet.

"This is why I went over the right uniform with you before," she said, going over to her belongings and rummaging through the bag. She pulled out some white bandaging that was rolled up into a compact ball. Unraveling a few feet, she instructed Ulrich to show her his hands before she started to wrap it around his raw hands.

"You seem like you've done this a lot," Ulrich remarked, sighing inwardly. Why did he choose to make himself seem like such a fool now?

"Mm hmm…well I wasn't always a good martial artist," Yumi answered as she continued to bandage him expertly, wrapping it tightly and securely. "Ulrich-san, I want you to wear gloves from now on," she said. "I have a spare pair for you to wear today, but I think you should have your own too."

"…I can't imagine you not being good at this…" Ulrich whispered quietly. She was amazing.

Yumi looked up. "Pardon me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Had he, the competitive, quirky, son-of-a-rich-man just _complimented_ her? She forced her gaze back down at the hands she was taking care of, trying to hide the blush that was spreading on her cheeks.

"Nothing," her pupil said passively. "I'll wear gloves tomorrow." He turned away as well. Another flush was growing on his face, he could tell…

But wow. She must think of him as a total idiot for saying something like that.

Yumi took another few seconds to finish her medical care and stood up, lacing her fingers together and stretching them out. After rummaging through her pack, she produced a pair of black gloves made of a stretchy material. "These should fit," she said, throwing them casually at him. "Catch."

He fumbled the gloves as he caught them, but pulled them. "Well, should we warm up properly this time Yumi-sensei?" he asked.

"Of course we should. I guess we can start with stretching out our muscles," Yumi answered, starting with her legs. Ulrich nodded, doing his stretches as well. Stretching was good.

* * *

_Ulrich's POV_

* * *

Before I leave the mansion every day for training, Midori-san always told me to "Remember to stretch!" I understood her – stretching was supposed to be good for you. 

…However, after a quarter of an hour of warming up, it's not as good as it's supposed to be. After doing leg stretches, arm stretches, neck stretches, back stretches, finger stretches, toe stretches…everything possible to stretch, Yumi was still going full steam ahead. Before I could stop my rudeness, I sighed. It wasn't really loud, but it wasn't silent either.

Yumi-sensei, in the middle of a back-bend **(1)**, stretching who-knows-what out, looked up at me, after pulling herself back up into a standing position. "You do know why I'm having you stretch so much, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, to warm up." It was self-explanatory, right?

"Yes, but do you know _why_ we're warming up so much?" she asked. I could hear a faint edge of sarcasm.

I shook my head in defeat.

"Ulrich-san, how many pounds can you lift?" **(2)** Yumi asked me, a smirk growing on her pretty face.

"Um…I dunno, 100?" I answered, not sure at all. I couldn't look like TOO much of a wimp. The truth is, I haven't lifted anything exceeding 10 pounds. Ever. Usually, servants got to do these things.

"Mm. That's…a start?" Yumi-sensei said, smiling nervously. "Well, supposed you decided to lift 110 pounds. The strain put on your muscles would make them rip. After they rip, they heal weaved together, not just stuck back in place, so they get stronger. The healing process makes you sore, so stretching will help reduce the pain."

I think I got that…?

Eh, well yeah…actually no. Sorta…?

Who cared that she was a girl? I think I would learn a lot from Yumi-sensei after all.

* * *

_Normal POV_

* * *

Ulrich panted heavily, as he finished his lesson before lunch with his sensei. It was 12:30, and he was beat. Sitting on the soft grass, he let out deep breaths, trying to slow down his breathing while he continued to fidget with his katana. 

"_Ma taishite hiruhan!"_ _(Time for lunch!)_ Yumi announced happily, while bringing two bento boxes out for them to eat. **(3)** She dug through her backpack to find a plastic bag filled with clean chopsticks and found two matching pairs. One for Ulrich, and one for herself. Inside was a variety of foods. Today, Yumi had packed rice in the biggest slot of the bento, with gyouza and salad with ginger dressing. The biggest part was the takoyaki she had made. **(4)**

"Yumi-sensei, this is really good!" Ulrich exclaimed as he ate the gyouza after dipping it in sauce. "Thank you for making this!"

Yumi smiled slightly as she chewed her takoyaki. _"Arigato! _I like to cook, so it was no problem at all._" (Thank you!)_

They both enjoyed a few moments of silence, listening to nature. The birds chirped and the wind rustled the leaves. It was beautiful.

"Ah!" Yumi smiled suddenly. "Ulrich-san, I have an idea!"

"Yeah?"

"While we're eating lunch, let's go over equipment and weaponry. That way, we can still work while we're taking a break!"

"…Ok?"

He sighed inwardly. Then this wouldn't really qualify as a break, now would it?

* * *

"Ok Ulrich. What's this?" Yumi asked, dropping a random weapon out of her bag onto the soft grass. She smirked. This foreigner boy would never know the name of… 

"Shuriken."

Yumi sweat-dropped, but smiled anyway. "Yes, that's correct," she said, bending over to retrieve her weapon. She made sure not to touch any of the sharp blades on the knife. "Even though you may know them as 'ninja stars' or whatnot, the proper name is shuriken."

"How about this one?" Yumi held out another weapon for him to examine. It had one big circle at the end, big enough to use to grasp with your whole hand, and the foot long blade was flat and sharp. It was curved too, making it seem deadlier. She flicked her wrist at the side away from her and her student. Three more identical blades uncurled from underneath the first one. "You know it?"

Ulrich shook his head and reached out to grasp the quad-bladed saw thing.

Yumi saw the violent, weapon-crazy look in his eyes that she often saw in Hiroki's eyes when she practiced reflected in Ulrich's. She smacked his hand lightly away. "No touching. Not until you learn how to handle shuriken at least," she said, glancing down at the bandaged fingertips that she had waved away.

Ulrich growled under his breath and withdrew his hand. "Well, what is it?" he asked, irritated.

"Oh this? It's a fuuma shuriken. It's harder to control then it looks, so you won't be using it for a while now," Yumi answered, retracting the blades with a smart snap of her wrist. She sheathed it too. The blades were sharp enough to cut through the bag it was transported in.

"Anything else?" Ulrich asked, still a bit miffed that he hadn't been allowed to play with the dangerous looking, shiny knife.

Yumi nodded happily. "I've always loved weaponry," she said with a smile, rummaging through her bag again. "Here!"

They continued on, through a tireless game of show-and-tell. Kunai, katana (Ulrich's personal favorite), shuriken of all types, senbon, hatchets, swords, machete…it didn't matter, Ulrich knew some, Yumi knew all, and both were happy to share their knowledge.

Even as the weapons grew harder, and the day became hotter, they both didn't mind.

They felt a need for each other's company.

* * *

_Authoress' Notes:_

_**(1)** – It's self-explanatory, but a back-bend is when you stand up and lean back onto your hands. Some people may call them "bridges" or whatnot? _

_**(2)** –I know that most places in the world don't use pounds (only us Americans) but since I don't know kilograms or whatever the world uses, we can stick to pounds._

_**(3)** – Bento: A Japanese lunch box._

_**(4)** – Gyouza: Pork dumplings_

_------Ginger Salad Dressing: A special salad dressing made from ginger…duh._

_------Takoyaki: Octopus balls. _

_IsabelSPACE: So yeah…I hope you liked it and haven't lost your interest in this story! Sorry about the crappy ending too…_

**JennSPACE: Reviewing will make Isabel and me very. very. happy. if you don't review, we won't update, so REVIEW! Please&Thankyouu.  
**

Remember that reviewing is nice!

--ANGELforSHOW and aZn DrEaMeR xD


	4. Chapter 4

**Raising the Sword**

**Chapter 4**

**By aZn dReAmEr xD and ANGELforSHOW**

**A/N:**

**Jenn: Reviewing is good for the writer's soul. Hehe Jenn gets credit. :DD  
**

_Isabel: Reviewing is also theraputic. So...-J & I Chorus Together- REVIEWWW!_**  
**

* * *

Ulrich couldn't help it. He was thinking about her. 

She was only an instructor.

'A gorgeous one at that,' his mind seemed to add.

"No!" he told himself. "Just a good instructor--a cute one too."

"NO!" a large smack from his sturdy hands was his punishment.

"Ulrich?" there was a knock on the door. Midori-san. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Midori-san," Ulrich replied dismissively.

"Okay, if you say so…" Midori-san sounded a little nervous, but she seemed to shrug it off as Ulrich heard her footsteps go down the hall.

Ulrich sighed, staring at the blank, unwelcoming ceiling. He stretched his sore muscles, reminiscing today. He smiled slightly, remembering the delicious lunch he had shared with Yumi.

Okay. She was a good cook, a good fighter, she was beautiful and smart and nice and a good person.

What else could she be?

… A lot of things he didn't know.

He smiled wider. He practically felt blessed to be in her presence- much less her student.

He felt pathetic. Was there an antidote?

If there was, he would buy ten bottles of it- just in case.

-

Soft green grass caressed her bare legs, making her sigh with relaxation.

She felt guilt. Lots of it.

Of so many things she could not name. So, so many things.

H-how could her parents even think of such a thing?

Only for their own fortune, only thinking of themselves; of the riches they'd gain by doing it.

Yumi felt like- pounding the grass, screaming to her heart's content. There are times when you just feel like exploding with anger, from an overdrive of emotions. This was one of them.

She felt liquid crystal tears form in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, tearing out a few strands of grass in frustration.

Just then, a figure came behind her.

"I can help you, child. Come with me…"

* * *

The sun was bright the next morning. There were no lessons today. The flowers were bright, the clouds were heavenly and carefree… 

And the handsome brunette boy was in Dreamland.

And he was in it with "you-know-who". The wind, the sun, the clouds, the smell… it could do that to you.

"Ulrich!"

The trance was broken by an annoying voice and a foul smell. Ulrich woke up immediately, irritated that he was snapped out of his dream.

"Whaat…?"

"KONICHIWA!"

"That's a fake voice, Odd. Just drop it."

Odd was from France as well. His mother was a servant for the Sterns, and was a good friend of Mrs. Stern. Odd had grown up as Ulrich's good friend, as well as their servant. But he was really too lazy to be of much help… He usually just fooled around and helped move stuff.

"… Okay… you're no fun…"

"Glad to hear that."

"So, how did the lesson with Wakamuji-sensei go?"

Ulrich shrugged, trying to keep his composure. "He got a new job as a doctor."

"… Oh. Your father must have been... _infuriated." _Odd grinned to himself for using such a "big word".

"...Nah."

"Huh?"

"Nope."

"… What happened?"

"I got a new teacher."

"Oh, what's his name?"

"HER name." Ulrich corrected his blonde friend.

Odd grinned mischievously, raising an eyebrow. "It's a she, ehh?"

"… Yeah, so?" Ulrich pretended to be casual.

Odd studied his friend. "You like her, don't you?"

"Of course not; she's only my instructor…"

"But she's more than that."

"No she's not!" Ulrich was getting really steamed up.

And when he got steamed up, that meant he was getting humiliated. And in this case, getting humiliated meant he liked her.

See, Odd logic, yes?

… More like Hiroki logic, but still. Odd was a blond, and as the rumour goes, blonds weren't all that smart. Even though their other **blond **friend, Jeremie, was smarter than average, proving that not every blond was as dumb as Odd.

"Hm, hm. Where is she?"

Just like Odd. Wanting to know where she is before he even knows her name. Weird guy.

"I don't know."

"Yes you do!"

"She's probably at her house, smart one…"

"… Where's her house."

"In India."

"REALLY!"

That rewarded him a slap.

"Guess not…"

-

Yumi walked out of the guy's hideout, feeling dejected and ashamed.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her family would be happy to hear the half of her news. The other half-- not so happy.

No, nothing had happened there. She had made a deal with him that would guarantee wealth. At least enough wealth to make her agree to his deal.

But it had also helped that he had made her half drunk. He had led her to his hideout, forced her to drink some alcohol, making her woozy. She hadn't been able to think.

Which is why she accepted the deal.

And the effect of the drug is that she wouldn't remember where his hideout was- and not only that, she had particularly remembered this one part: If she didn't do what he said, he would be sure that "something would happen to her family".

She couldn't let that happen. Even if her student--

No. She wouldn't think that. She would obey the guy.

Besides, Ulrich didn't mean anything to her. He was just her student, right?

Yes. Right. This guy had promised her wealth beyond what Ulrich could give her for the lessons.

… Still.

She felt so… so much worse than what she felt before…

But at least some effect of the drug was still on. Then she could hallucinate for the rest of the day and feel happy until tomorrow.

When she would be miserable and cry her eyes out.

… Hooray.

* * *

**Next Day:**

As predicted, she felt horrible. Miserable. Depressed. Unhappy. Backstabber. Terrible. Awful. Ashamed.

What other words were there?

… Lots.

Yumi went into the fields, breathing in fresh air. She needed it.

She only hoped for the best and the least damage possible.

The least damage possible?

...No one dying.

Greattt.

* * *

A/N: 

**Jenn: Hehe. Foreshadow. Turns out I finished the chapter like a month or two ago already. I just forgot to post it. Teehee. ... Yeah. Edited (barely) by Isabel. Woohoo! Mmph, I want sushi.  
**

_Isabel: Well...next chapter is mine! Now, ya'll sit back and don't hold your breath. You know MY track record with updating...Heh heh..._

_We hope you liked this chapter, now review, yo!_

**- jENN**

_--ANGELforSHOW-- _**  
**


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